


So Close

by dwarrowdams



Series: Rogues Do It From Behind [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, i may or may not have cried while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwarrowdams/pseuds/dwarrowdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran gives Gilan a token of something that, according to him, is definitely not affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Close

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a handful of pieces revolving around about this moment in the game. I have a lot of feelings about the endgame Zevranmance, so this is the first of three or four pieces that will actually be posted in a semi-linear fashion.
> 
> Also, I realize that I've neglected to mention my other canon Warden, Tirzah, although she's come up in a couple of previously published works. She's an Alistairmancing Aeducan and is motherly with a deep appreciation for tradition. She's the real leader of the group and Gilan defers to her for all of the major decisions (largely because he likes to avoid responsibility whenever he can). The two of them have a lot of personality conflicts, but they're similar enough in their desires to get along. They haven't done a whole lot of interacting in this series, but I figured it'd be useful to give you an idea of who Tirzah is and what her relationship with Gil is like so that she's more than just a name that randomly shows up every so often.
> 
> Anyways, this was a lot of fun to write, although it was kind of emotionally stressful. I hope you enjoy it!

Contrary to what Gilan Cousland had been led to believe, there was, in fact, such a thing as too much excitement.

 

They’d encountered—and killed—Taliesin, Zevran’s former colleague, in the streets of Denerim today, buying Zevran a little more time free of the Crows.  Gilan had been longing to speak with him ever since, but Zevran had been unusually withdrawn since the incident.  Gilan didn’t blame him, of course, but he wanted to make sure that Zevran was all right.  He’d retreated to his tent the moment they’d set up camp and had remained inside ever since.  It had been quite a while now and Gilan was beginning to worry.  He had half a mind to check and make sure that Zevran was all right, but if the elf needed time alone, Gilan didn’t want to disturb him.  He gazed absently into the fire, trying not to worry too much about the situation.

 

Gilan jumped slightly as the sound of Zevran emerging from his tent disturbed his train of thought.  “Hey,” he said as Zevran sat down beside him.  “How are you?”

 

“Well enough,” Zevran said.  “I have been…thinking a lot.”

 

Gilan frowned.  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

 

“I am fine,” Zevran said.  “I just…here.” He opened his hand and held it out towards Gilan.  “It seems an appropriate moment to give you this.”

 

Gilan looked down at the object in Zevran’s hand.  “Is that an earring?” he asked.

 

Zevran nodded.  “I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows,” he said.  “A Rivani merchant prince was wearing this when I killed him.  In fact, it’s about all he was wearing.  I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion.  I’ve kept it since…and now I’d like you to have it.”

 

Gilan leaned in slightly closer, studying the earring.  He was no expert, but it looked remarkably well-made.  Despite the fact that Zevran had been hanging onto it for a while now, the earring still gleamed gold, accented by a few precious gemstones.  “It’s lovely,” Gilan murmured.  “A little…unexpected, but lovely.

 

“Don’t get the wrong idea about it,” Zevran said, his eyes dropping quickly to the grass.  “You killed Taliesin.  As far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him.  That means I’m free…at least for now.  Feel free to sell this or wear it…or whatever you’d like.  It’s really the least I could give you in return.”

 

The reply stung a little more than Gilan would care to admit.  He had hoped that Zevran might return his feelings, but his insistence that there was no sentiment attached to the earring quickly eradicated that hope.   “It’s…a reward for helping you?” he asked, the disappointment in his voice a little too apparent.

 

“I…look, just—just take it,” Zevran muttered.  “It’s meant a lot to me, but so have…so has what you’ve done.  Please, just take it.”

 

“I’m glad to, then,” Gilan said, taking the earring from Zevran’s hand.  “Thanks, Zev.  It’s beautiful.”

 

“I am the one who should be thanking you,” Zevran murmured.  “For freeing me from the Crows…for everything, really.”  


“Of course, Zev,” Gilan murmured.  “You’re my…my friend.  I was glad to do it.”  He fought the urge to wince—he’d meant to refer to Zevran as his partner, his love, something that alluded to a lasting relationship, but he’d lost his nerve at the last second.  

 

Zevran frowned slightly.  “You say that so quickly and yet it is an odd thing for me to hear,” he said.  “In the Crows, we do not have ‘friends,’ and yet here you are…and I cannot help but consider you such.”

 

Relief washed through Gilan—clearly, Zevran hadn’t noticed Gilan’s sudden loss of heart.

 

“Actually,” Gilan said, “if we’re being perfectly honest…I think of you as more than a friend.”

 

“Oh,” Zevran murmured, his lips parted in shock.  “I…have thought that as well.  I simply had no idea that you might feel the same.”

 

Gilan mustered his courage and opened his mouth, hoping that whatever words came out would somehow serve to express his feelings about Zevran, but the elf spoke before Gilan could formulate a coherent sentence.  “There is something else that I wanted to say,” he said.  “What we are doing here—stopping the Blight…I cannot think of anything I have ever done which is so worthy.”

 

“Zevran…”

 

“Wait,” he murmured, gently touching Gilan’s wrist.  “I am not done yet.  I intend to see this through to the end with you.  After all, someone must take responsibility for preventing your untimely death.”

 

Gilan smiled, pulling Zevran into an embrace.  “Thanks, Zev,” he said, lips grazing the tip of the elf’s ear as his hand gently massaged the small of Zevran’s back.  “I’m glad you’re with me.  Out of all the people who’ve tried to kill me, you’re my favorite.”

 

Zevran laughed, his face still pressed into Gilan’s chest.  “And out of all of the people I have failed to assassinate, you are my favorite.”

 

“Aww,” Gilan murmured.  “You like me better than Tirzah and Alistair.”

 

“Of course,” Zevran replied, lifting his head to meet Gilan’s gaze.  “They are nice enough, but you…you are something else.”

 

“So are you.”

 

“You are too kind, my dear.”

 

Gilan took his hand.  “You say that so often, like it’s unusual for you,” he said.  “And that only makes me want to be kinder to you because you haven’t seen enough of it.  Because everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve said to you…you deserve it a thousand times over.”

 

“Gilan…”

 

“Hang on,” he said. “Zevran…there’s something that I need to say to you.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Gilan took a deep, shuddering breath, struggling to gather his thoughts before he spoke.  He opened his mouth, ready to begin telling Zevran how he felt.

 

“Damn,” he said.  “Apparently I’m at a loss for words.”

 

“That is perfectly all right,” Zevran said.  “We will speak later then, yes?”

 

“Yeah,” Gilan replied, giving Zevran’s hand a final squeeze before releasing it.  “Thanks, Zev.”

 

As Zevran walked away, Gilan gazed down at the earring in his hand as he tried to sort out the conversation he’d just had.  He’d been so close to telling Zevran how he felt, but he hadn’t been able to find the right words.  It needed to be perfect—he loved Zevran too much to stutter his way through a confession of his feelings.   He needed more time to think up the right way to say it.

 

Or he could remain silent and hope that Zevran made the first move.  It hadn’t proven particularly effective in the past, but Gilan was ready to give it another shot.  Maybe his string of un-subtle hints would tip Zevran off.  Maybe Zevran would realize how Gilan felt and confess his love.  Or maybe he would put an end to their relationship.  Maybe this was too much for him too fast.  Maybe it would all be over by this time tomorrow.

 

Or maybe he should stop worrying about it and let it happen.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God, Gilan is the absolute worst at this. The other pieces will be along shortly—I'll try to stagger them out, though, as I don't anticipate having much time to write with the end of the semester rapidly approaching.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and, as always, I'd be delighted to hear your comments or constructive criticisms of my work.


End file.
